The Choices we make
by Curondhil
Summary: She had always been loyal to the Empire. Nothing could ever change that... or could it? Imperial Dragonborn x Ulfric


_Time I wrote an Ulfric story. This one is supposed to get pretty long, and I do know I'm really bad at writing long stories. I'll try regardless._

_Please rate and review!_

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Had you asked Silvia Riccardi a few months ago, she would have held her head high and told you that she always made her own choices. Her life was hers, and only hers, and she would do with it as she saw fit.

It was her choice entirely to follow in her father's footsteps and join the legion, just as her father had followed his father on this path. The Riccardis had a long military tradition in Cyrodiil, and Silvia chose to continue the line of her ancestors at a very young age.

Had you asked her back then, she would have told you that her father wanted her stationed in Cyrodiil, away from the ongoing battles, in a position where she would catch the eye of a commander or general, and fulfill her duty to the emperor by breeding more little legionairres.

For a while, Silvia chose to follow her father's wish – until his dreams came true and she caught the eye of General Decianus – and old, fat man who had led one of the few victorious battles in the Great War, the Battle of the Red Ring, side by side with the Emperor. The General had been married before and even fathered a few children that were all around Silvia's age, but her father insisted on raising the family into higher social spheres by suggesting Decianus remarry. Why his eye fell in Silvia, she could only guess, but surely her father had a hand in this.

And for the first time, she left the path that was chosen for her.

The young woman retired from the army, and only a few hours after her leave was granted, she was on her way to Skyrim. There was always the option to re-enter the legion there and do some actual fighting. She was needed there, and her father would only learn about his daughter's disappearance when it was too late.

She knew about the rebellion in Skyrim, led by a man by the name of Ulfric Stormcloak, who used to fight at her father's side in the Great War. The worship of Talos was said to be his main argument, though there was no question the man only lusted for power. He must have lost his mind under Thalmor torture, and for some reason, a great amount of those brutish Nords followed him.

Before she even realized she had crossed the border to Skyrim, she had literally stumbeled into an ambush. It was mere coincidence and bad luck that had brought her there in the first place, but after she received a knock on the head, she found herself waking up in a cart, hands tied behind her back, with a Stormcloak soldier, a horsethief, and noone less than the Jarl of Windhelm beside her.

At first, she had no idea who the man was, although his clothes and the way he held himself indicated authority. His eyes were steel blue and he was gagged. Silvia could not help admiring the power this man radiated, even in this bound and crippled state.

When the Stormcloak revealed the man beside her to be Ulfric, it all made sense. She would gladly die here, as long as his head rolled as well. The war would end with Ulfric's death and peace would return to the Empire. Hammerfell would probably also fall soon, and all would be as it was. Her life meant nothing in the greater scheme of things, although she would have preferred to die with a sword in her hand.

When she was asked who she was and why she had crossed the border, she said nothing. It was only two days prior that she had left the Legion, so if she revealed herself, not only would they think she left to join the Rebellion, but her family would be disgraced in the process. Since she was bound to die this day anyway, she remained silent.

She also knew the man in charge of the execution: General Tullius. The only General in the entire Imperial army who actually fought battles at this time. The only General she wanted to fight for.

When the axe fell down and ended the life of the first Stormcloak, reality sank in. She would die here, even before any of these traitors did. But Silvia would not shame herself and her family by breaking down, crying and begging for her life. She was a soldier at heart, so she held her head high, and even though her feet tembled, she walked to the block without hesitance.

What happened next was a blur. All she knew was that, when she finally opened her eyes, she was not dead. The Stormcloak from earlier, Ralof, urged her into the tower,

Ulfric was there. Their eyes met, and her legs shook. Whether it was from the near death experience, the dragon attack, or the imposing aura this man radiated, she did not know.

"Legends don't burn down villages". The first words she ever heard him say. His voice made her shiver, and she immediately obeyed when he told her to run up the tower. It did not matter that he was the enemy. He gave an order, and she listened.

For some reason, she followed the Stormcloak out of Helgen. Somehow she felt as if she owed him her life, but the thought of slaying Legionairres on the way out sickened her. Either way, she had no choice at this point. If Ralof identified the way she held her blad as the style they taught the soldiers in the Legion, he never said a word.

That was the first time in Silvia's life she did not remember actively making a choice. The choice to follow Ralof. The choice to kill Imperial soldiers. The choice to follow Ulfric's oder, even if it was just once, and the secret choice to pray that the leader of the rebellion made it out alive.

Only so she had a reason to fight, of course. If there was no war, there was no point in her re-joining the ranks. But that was why she was here, right? That was what she came for!

It was at this day, that her life had been taken out of her hands, and destiny found her. The struggle to find her own fate instead of following the path the Gods had presented would be the greatest war Silvia would ever wage.


End file.
